


Family Ties

by Blackmoonshine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10903023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackmoonshine/pseuds/Blackmoonshine
Summary: The X-Men must infiltrate a mutant slave ring where gladiator fights weed out the weak. The Wizarding world is in the throes of the war against Voldemort. There are some mutants/magical folks who are involved in both battles. This is a story of those intersections. Non-Trio focused.





	1. Chapter 1

This story will feature lots of common tropes- There will be angst galore, slash, an original character or two, a complete botching up of two fandom's timelines, some made up background stories, Snape being occasionally nice, and whatever else I construct along the way. But hopefully some original takes on all of the above.

To set the stage: This is a Harry Potter (up to the 5th book) and X-Men Evolution (with some pieces of comic book or original cartoon thrown in). For instance- in X-Men Evolution we don't really get Wolverine's past, so I'm making it up. However, Kitty's talents are touched upon in the comics and original cartoons, but not X-Men Evolution. Jubilee is a vampire (comics) but everyone is quite young (Evolution). The timeline for X-Men Evo has been shifted earlier so that it coincides with Harry Potter. For Harry Potter we've got the trio off on their quest and they are 7th year age- we're ignoring the killing of Dumbledore and the nastiness that comes after that. Essentially...I've done whatever the hell I've wanted.

Enjoy the ride.

* * *

Kitty grinned in glee as another encryption was broken. She had never imagined that one day she would be this good at something, that the numbers and codes and movements would wind through her brain and click like lock tumblers into place, opening the secrets hidden within to her. Oh sure, she took the required computer classes at school- it had been very easy for her to build code to make the simple programs work, and it had intrigued her, but she had dismissed it as nerdy, for geeks, thinking that it came this easily to everyone. It wasn't until they were rebuilding the mansion, rebuilding the Danger Room and Cerebro, that she had been roped into doing some of the simpler computer work. It had developed from there. She read books on the different systems and she practiced by building codes and cracking codes, playing pranks of the fellow mansions resident's computers. That all seemed too long ago.

The Professor had subtly hinted that she should put her talents to use in information gathering. Slowly she had become their resident hacker, cracker, and all around information gatherer. She hung out online with other people who built codes and manipulated systems, sharing hints and giving advice. She didn't even recognize herself some days. She was still a happy, optimistic person, but she wasn't as excitable. The Valley Girl look didn't belong to her anymore, and she realized that she had grown tougher, a little more jaded. Logan had gruffly told her that she was turning into a real lady.

Logan had done a lot for her over the years. She had wracked her brain on how to repay him, even though she never could. He was her almost father figure. Not that her father wasn't amazing and wonderful, they just didn't get to see each other often. She knew he was amused that his daughter had grown up to become a super hero. But he still didn't understand it. Couldn't possibly understand it.

She was in the smallish office (more like a closet) that had been set up for her with the best equipment the professor was willing to spring for (and it was all really wonderful considering she had picked it out and charged it to his cards. It still counted as a gift, right?). The mansion was calm today, surprisingly enough. After the Danger room session this morning everyone had dispersed, Rogue, Jean and Ororo had gone shopping (they had invited her, but she declined. She wanted to work on her project), Logan was calibrating something in the Danger room with Scott in the control room, and Bobby and Hank were in the rec room watching t.v. with some of the younger students and probably making sugary concoctions that no one in their right mind would eat.

She had been up for half the night ever since she woke with a start and a brilliant idea. What was Logan always going off to the wilderness for? Peace and quiet? Sure. But he was looking for his past. The old Weapon X files weren't the easiest thing she had ever tried to hack into, but she kept on pushing. She had to hunt for a little while, but she eventually found signs of what she was looking for in a dusty corner of government files. They were kept under lock and key. How many people really wanted into these files? She wondered to herself. Rather than waste time reading the information while she was there she immediately saved the files and moved on. The procedures. The training process. How he was picked. Personal Information. There is was. Exactly what she was looking for. She saved the files. She saved the files of everyone who was linked to him. This was a mystery that she would unravel. And it would be the best present Logan had ever gotten.

* * *

"Logan, calm down. We are _not_ going in there to fight." Scott told him sternly. "We will get in and get out as quickly as possible." He looked around and the skeleton team he had pulled together. He meant what he said. He didn't want this to turn into a fight, so fewer numbers were better, but he still worried about getting stuck in a violent situation where there were no other options and no back up. The place they were going to infiltrate was a well known organization on the west coast that compiled lists of mutants, along with their power, if known, and sold them to the highest bidder. There wasn't much the X-Men could really do about that since that kind of information was often very easy to come by, but recently information had reached them that the organization had started to compile scientific data and had all the makings for a lab. When Scott asked indignantly why Ororo's informant, who always seemed to give them the information they needed _after_ he had finished his own work, and often destroying the material but not the physical location, didn't finish his job she merely gave him a wry twist of the lips and replied that it was good for the team to do their own work every once in a while. After all, her informant only told them what he wanted to, what was good for him to tell, not out of any kindness in his shriveled heart. Scott grudgingly had to accept this. For the past few years it had almost been like they had a nameless, faceless member of the team who proved incredibly valuable but never really bothersome.

So here they were, hoping to get the information and then destroy the set up. No fighting, per se, but there was still the high probability of that happening. They landed the Black Bird a little way off, which caused most of the team to grumble about the distance they'd have to walk. They didn't want to announce their presence after all, and hopefully it would be easier to run to the Blackbird than to try and stealthily hide a several ton aircraft closer to the building.

It was almost suspiciously easy to infiltrate the building. They slipped passed the timed patrols around the perimeter of the building's walls, everyone holding onto Shadowcat to slide through the gate. They stuck to the shadows in the dusk of the setting sun and used that same sun to their advantage, by moving when it shone into the eyes of the guards. One _snikt_ and the flash of silver claws from Wolverine and the door opened sans passcode. They appeared to be in a rather quiet part of the building- Wolverine could hear faint voices through the walls, but it seemed that most of the workers- scientists, soldiers, run-of-the-mill everytype laborors- had gone home for the night. That made their job easier, at any rate. Cyclops had briefed them in the War Room about the layout of the building. Following Cyclops's directions and Wolverine's nose, they found the area they were looking for, with Boom Boom flicking pebble-sized explosives at the cameras as they passed. They passed no one and though they anxiously waited, no alarms sounded.

"This is disappointing," Shadowcat murmured as they squeezed themselves into the room. It was only slightly bigger than her closet set-up back at the mansion and didn't look all that high tech. "So much for believing what the movies tell me." She had expected something a bit more grandiose. Wolverine just grunted and Cyclops was keeping an eye out the door. Boom Boom, brought along for phase two of the mission, contented herself snapping her gum, which earned her a glare from Wolverine and the silent promise of another "things to do to ensure you get caught" lecture. She just grinned at his evil eye. She was no longer a child and was not as easily intimidated by the growling mutant. Just because she liked to have fun did not mean that she was not a serious fighter.

It took just a moment for the system to recognize her hard drive and just a few moments more to find and copy personnel files, project files, and anything else that looked remotely important. The personnel and project files were the main ones that Storm's informant had told them to look out for. The minutes that it took for the files to copy were tense- anyone could come by at any moment. It was a few more minutes still while she let loose a spybot which would attach itself to any outgoing messages or transferred files. Cyclops and Wolverine were tense, and for all of Boom Boom's projected ease, her eyes constantly scanned the room and Wolverine and Cyclops for any hint of trouble.

Shadowcat safely ejected the harddrive as both of her projects were complete. "Go for it," she instructed Boom Boom. The blonde woman nodded and a a glowing orb of plasma began to grow between her palms. She littered the room with half a dozen of the timed explosives- as she had gained control of her power she had been able to increase the time between creation and detonation. Making sure the coast was clear the moved quickly, retracing their path into the building as the cameras were already disabled along that route.

Two guards speaking in front of the entrance gave them pause. Wolverine barred his teeth at the hitch in their escape, but made no sounds. The guards finally drifted away after thirty seconds, but it felt much longer than that. They wanted to be well outside the area by the time Boom Boom's explosives detonated. Again, Shadowcat phased them through the outer wall. It had grown dark in the fifteen minutes or so they were within the building, which made their escape easier. By the time Cyclops deemed them relatively home free, they were sprinting for the jet on the other side of a copse of trees. They were half way there when they heard the distant percussion of the explosives. They broke into a dead run, the Blackbird taking off before everyone was ready, leaving Boom Boom sprawled in the aisle.

"No tail. Nothing on the sensors. We're crossing over into crowded airspace in a few minutes- even if they wanted to I doubt they'll find us in this mess," Wolverine growled through the intercom as the Blackbird jerked at a steep angle and banked left. Boom Boom muttered as she was strapping herself in.

"That was surprisingly easy," Cyclops commented, seeming startled that his "no fighting" mission turned into exactly what he had hoped for- a rarity.

Shadowcat nodded. "I don't think we've ever had a mission that went so smoothly...especially a mission where we blew something up." She worried that maybe something had gone wrong-something they weren't yet prepared for. They had gotten all of the cameras, right?

"Exactly. I feel like we've missed something vital and it will come back to bite us in the ass." was his reply.

"Scott!" Tabitha gasped in mock horror. "Language!" She paused. "There's nothing we could do about it anyway. Face it. We had an easy mission, we accomplished our goals, and for once, we have nothing to angst about." Scott shrugged in reply before unbuckling and made his way to the cockpit to join Wolverine in stoic, manly silence. The only sound was the vibration of the engines as they flew home.

* * *

The great wizard Albus Dumbledore observed the two men in front of him silently, peering at them over his half-moon spectacles, a grave expression on his face. Long moments of silent stretched on as both men waited patiently for the outcome. The plan had merit, the two men thought, but who could tell if it would interfere with some other plan already in the works? They were but two chess pieces after all; they went where they were told but often were not told why they had made any particular move.

"Lemon drop?" He pushed the candy dish towards them. The dark man raised an eyebrow and snorted inelegantly. He made the damn things after all. Calming draught laced lemon drops were a thing of beauty and perfect for fixing all the ills of the pubescent raging hormones-on-legs Hogwarts called students. They also took up a damn good bit of time. Did the man think he had nothing else to do? The other man shook his head and merely took a sip of tea which had gone cold in the wait.

Dumbledore turned his attention to the older man. "Severus, do you really think this is wise?" Casting a look at the other man he said in an apologetic tone, "it's not that I do not believe you capable, I'm just not sure if the risk if worth the reward."

Snape leaned forward. "I could be discovered at any minute and then the Order's spy is gone. We would lose all of our inside information. Though we have a few informants, they are nowhere near the inner circle as I am. He," he said, gesturing, "contains an amount of power that would be very tempting to the Dark Lord. He is a rarity, to be sure, and an affront to pureblood supremacy, but the Dark Lord himself is a half-blood and may take kindly to him. In fact, I believe he will welcome him and the opportunity he brings. Though he deals with the werewolves and other creatures, this would be his connection to a new source of power and I don't think he would turn that down." The man they spoke of said nothing, merely watching the exchange with interest. "Albus, I would not suggest this if I did not think it would work. I have coached him on the proper behaviors and he can, when he chooses to do so, behave with proper Slytherin grace. He was a student in my own house. I-" Snape cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to speak around the lump that had formed. Albus looked at him intently, not surprised that he was fond of the boy-now-man who sat with them, but that he would make an attempt to articulate this fondness surprised him greatly. "I would not do anything to unduly endanger him." Severus finally settled on. Who needed words to describe a relationship as deep and solid as theirs? He was not a child person, no one would ever accuse him of that, but when a traumatized orphan was sorted into his house, torn from his home country, it was impossible for Severus not to keep an eye out and his door open. That the boy had needed that assurance and had latched onto that relationship had only been the start of a mentor turned foster-parent role for him. And here he was, throwing that same boy into a pit of vipers. He felt ill.

Albus turned to inspect the former student at his school, remembering what it had been like when he had first come. Oh, the mischief that would have made the Weasley twins green with envy! He sighed heavily. As much as he would have liked to have kept all of his students out of this war, he did not have such a luxury. Nor could he turn down the weapon that had been handed to him. With Harry, Ron, and Hermione off hunting horcruxes, he had lost access to Tom, save through his interactions with Severus. To have an assurance of a line of information...

"Detail this plan to me." He said eventually to the younger man. With a glance at Severus, who merely gave a single, curt nod, he began to outline the plan that they had spent months arguing over and tinkering with until it was as solid as they could make it.

Severus called the house elves to refresh the tea service while Dumbledore stood and stared out of the window in thought. It just might work. But could he really damn a former student to the dark mark. He shook his head. Of course he could. And he would. But that didn't mean that he liked it. Unlike Severus, the younger man would have no direct access to the Order. Instead, he would relay information to Severus or himself. He would continue to teach Ancient Studies, an elective available to the 6th and 7th year students, and Magical Theory to the first years, giving him a similar cover as Severus who was rarely called during the week in deference to his cover as Voldemort's spy.

He would be forced to carry the dark mark for the remainder of his days. His future would be tainted by suspicion. Who knew how long this war might last for? While he hoped for a quick and relatively bloodless conclusion to this madness, he was under no illusions. This could last decades, if the other horcruxes were not found. This young man could be killed by Voldemort in a fit of temper. He could be betrayed to the same result. Someone from their side may injure or kill him accidentally in battle.

"Will you tell Charlie?" He asked suddenly. Both his current spy and his soon-to-be spy glanced at each other.

"He knows we've come up with an idea. He knows we're bringin' it to you. But the details?" He shook his head. "He can't know. We don't see each other much, 'cept on breaks anyways." He shrugged. "I don't like it, but I'm willin' to do it." Albus thought of the eternal hell that would rain on his head if Molly found out that her son's partner was being used as a spy.

"Try to keep it from him," Dumbledore finally said, "but if he finds out, we will deal with it then. You will need support. Don't shut him out." He tugged on his white beard. "Do endeavor, however, to keep any such information from reaching the other members of the Weasley clan. Molly would have my hide." He informed him with a wince. Just the thought of that particular headache was enough to make him dread that future encounter- and make no mistake, he knew it was a matter of when, not if.

Turning to Severus he inquired, "when will you present him to Tom?"

"As soon as possible. Potentially tonight." Came the reply.

Dumbledore sunk wearily in his chair as Fawkes crooned soothingly at him. He turned to the young man. "Congratulations. You are now a spy. Do try not to get killed."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Kitty was bored. Wasn't it strange how people got excited about a mission, but the work afterwards was always left to some unfortunate soul? She sighed to herself as she she continued to scan through pages of personnel files, hoping something would catch her eye. As soon as they had returned from their successful mission, with nary a word of congratulations from anyone else, she had set to work. To say that she was disappointed would be an understatement. Didn't bad guys have any common sense anymore? No file encryption, nothing, really, to stop someone from just perusing these files at will! While it was true that this certainly made her life easier and made the job go faster, she had been looking forward to testing her skills. Now she was stuck with just the monotonous work of checking to see whether any of the personnel at this place were noteworthy member of Friends of Humanity or some other such group.

Scott was watching the news in his office to see if word of their adventures was going to make the news. Unlikely, because a private organization Doing Naughty Things wasn't likely to want to advertise to anyone, particularly their competitors, that their security had been compromised. It still behooved them to not underestimate the people they had just stolen from and caused major property damage to.

Were these even bad guys? She thought, disgusted. There wasn't even a whisper of illicit activity. Some nerdy science types, a few ex-military, some paper pushers. Where was their Darth Vader leader? Was Ororo's informant wrong about the important information here?

She gave up on the personnel files- for now, she'd get back to them later. Instead she moved to the activities files. Detailed minutes of meetings. An annual Christmas party. Could they be any more boring? Kitty felt on the verge of falling into a coma. This _Sword and Shield_ corporation seemed to be a legal, if not ethical, company. Compiling a database of mutants and then selling that information, however distasteful to her, was not exactly illegal. It seemed like they did little else. It was time for a break. And by that she meant it was time to do more Logan research. She looked around her. The door was shut. The room was uncomfortably warm with the heat of the electronics. There was no Scott peering at her from the doorway every half hour for information- it'd be a few more days before he'd reach that level of impatience.

She found his records disturbing but also fascinating. Sometimes Kitty would watch Logan stalk the grounds and marvel at the fact that she knew pieces of his history that he did not- but he would soon. She wished she would have better information, but that seemed more and more unlikely with every file she opened. Apparently Logan had become a participant semi-willingly after the death of his wife (or lover, the files didn't really say and Kitty couldn't make it out). While their had been pressure from the Weapon X organizers, they had preyed on his grief. He had two children of which he gave up custody under the advice of a Dr. Cornelius who had bluntly told him that a half-wild man like Logan would do harm to their psyches. An older girl and a younger boy, both clearly mutants, who were placed in the care of the  _Lanista_ orphanage group to find a better home.

Kitty leaned back in her charge, suddenly aware that it was late evening. The quiet murmur and shuffle of students getting ready for bed could be heard softly through the walls. She sighed to herself. Many of the students would be going home for the Thanksgiving holiday tomorrow. It was always an uncomfortable feeling to go on missions while there were students in the mansion- sooner or later the reality of the world they faced would come knocking on their doorstep, and every mission made it that much more likely. Thankfully they all returned home after this last mission, but someday, inevitably, that would not be the case.

Kitty powered down the system. Tomorrow she'd throw herself more fully into the  _Sword and Shield_ research. She tried to shake the feeling that digging into Logan's past was not going to be good for any of them. It seemed impossible that this new-found information she had gathered after going through only a small percentage of the files from Weapon X would make Logan happy. It seemed much more likely that it'd send him into further isolation. Make him hunt with a deeper desperation for the complete story of his past, the one only touched on by the files. Yet knowing what she did, could she pretend that she hadn't read the files? That she didn't know some of the information he was looking for? Could she hide it from him, knowing how fervently he had been searching, even if the answers were terrible?

Her thoughts continued to haunt her, even as she tried to will herself to sleep later that night, pillow wedged firmly over her head as though it would muffle the sound of her own thoughts bouncing around the inside of her skull.

* * *

 

 

“Our meeting with the Dark Lord has been approved. We must head towards the apparition point now.” The voice of one Severus Snape was clearly recognizable, even through the slightly distorting quality of the silver engraved mask. He removed the mask and tucked into into the pocket of his plain black robes before exiting his chambers, the younger man's long stride keeping perfect pace. He was wearing his own set of black robes, though he did not have a mask. He quickly tied back his hair once they exited the school building as the brisk wind seemed intent on making sure it ended up in his eyes. The younger man stood tall, a little over six feet and well muscled. While he projected calm, Severus could see the anxiety creating a pinched expression around his eyes. Too small a detail for anyone who did not know the man to pick up, but as his former head of house, a small detail which could not be hid.

Nor could Severus fully quell his own anxiety. There was a chance- a bigger one than they had presented to Albus- that there would be no second spy. That only one, or even no spy, might return by morning. While theoretically the premise of their proposal was sound, one could never fully account for the moods of the Dark Lord, nor of those who whispered their sweet poisons in his ear.

“I chose this.” Was all the second man said. Simply. Whatever the outcome, he was not going in blind. He knew the risks.

“Let us be on our way then.” Severus said once they had finally reached the apparition point. He grabbed hold of the other man's arm tightly and with a sharp crack they were gone.

They apparited to one of the Malfoy Manor's. Not the family home, but a site further concealed and less known. It also was in the “middle of bloody nowhere and we have to hike through sodden fields.” Snape growled. “Since the Dark Lord has been here more often as of late, the apparition boundaries have been pushed back past the fields.” It took them a good 15 minutes of slogging, but they did eventually make it to the Manor and were let into the front parlor, suspicious, unseen eyes observing their every move. With a few quick wand movements the younger man had them both returned to their original, cleaner state, as well as the mud they had tracked in entirely cleaned from the floor. He said nothing, just looked blankly ahead as Lucius Malfoy sneered at him, appraising him and cocking an eyebrow in Severus' direction, a clear  _really? Him?_ Before he dutifully brought them into the ballroom-cum-throne room. Lucius stepped to the side to allow them to make their own introductions. 

The Dark Lord lounged on what could only be considered a throne, not sparing a glance for either man as they bowed at his feet. Instead he watched with affected boredom at the torture of a young woman, maybe eighteen years of age who had been stripped to the waist as Bellatrix straddled her hips and lightly drew seemingly random patterns on her bare torso with her wand. The burns that bubbled up in the wake of her wand and the terrified shrieks the only sign that the torture was already underway rather than just beginning. With a adoring look to the Dark Lord she raised her wand and with a slicing hex she slowly dragged her wand over the young woman's voluptuous breasts, the skin parting revealing the shock of white fat before the blood burst forth. The agonizing screams made Severus' own throat feel hoarse. The girl's screams continued. On and on and on. Eventually the Dark Lord seemed to grow weary and waved his hard towards the door. At his instructions Bellatrix dragged her now limp, but still conscious, victim to the great doors by her hair, the rustling of cloth fading in their wake, though the streaking trail of blood left by the woman stood in stark contrast to the while tiles.

Still, the two men knelt at his feet. After almost an hour of being ignored they were finally addressed.

“You said you had a special present for me, Severus, hmm? What makes you think he is so special? Looks like a Mudblood to me.” The reptilian face finally took them in, his red eyes appraising. The younger man kept his face turned towards the floor, a picture of submission while Severus made his case.

“My Lord,” he began, finally looking up. “We have been seeking contacts with outsiders to bring them into the fold. We have been focusing on magical creatures like the werewolves, but I think we might consider moving our work to others who have a reason to want to end the infiltration of the muggles into our world.” The Dark Lord looked vaguely interested and gestured for Severus to continue, as he himself settled further into his throne.

“The muggles are actually formed of two groups, one that we traditionally think of as muggles, and mutants.” The throne room was quiet enough that they could hear a scoff from the back of a sea of black-robed, silver-masked Death Eaters. “It is true, My Lord. Their battles are all over the muggle news. The muggles want to take away their powers. I think we can harness these powers in our upcoming battle. Particularly when we have such individuals as these,” he remarked with a gesture to the other man, “who are both magical  _and_ mutant.” At this the Dark Lord leaned forward, seemingly much more interested in the young man in front of him. “Mutants have powers- different from magic, to be sure, but more specialized. They could be of great use to us in the coming times. Then afterwards....” He then gave a half-hearted shrug. 

“And this one here is a mutant?” He inquired

“ A Hybrid, My Lord. A mutant  _and_ magical.”

“Let me see him.” He commanded. “Stand.” The young man stood, but kept his eyes on the ground. “They don't seem that different from their muggle brethren, do they?” Severus could hear the boredom creeping into his Master's voice. The situation was going to spiral from control.

“Sometimes the might appear the same, but they are not. You should see what he can do.” He said lazily, his tone betraying none of the pleading that he felt. To all observers it was as though he had brought a prize dog for show, but would cull it immediately if it displeased his Lord.

“Go on.”

Severus gestured at the other man. At this the young man looked into the red eyes of the Dark Lord, with red and black eyes of his own. A breakout of murmuring began in the gathered Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, appearing fully intrigued, leaned forward to give a fuller inspection. Perhaps he had been too hasty in his dismissal.

From his pocket the young man drew forth a knut. It began to glow pink. More intense the light became, until he nodded to Severus who immediately erected a shield around the members present in the room. Into the middle of the floor he tossed the knut and the ensuing explosion threw chunks of tile against the shield, but even the reverberations could be felt by all present. When the dust cleared there was nothing left of the knut but a decently sized crater in the floor.

“Impressive.” There was no doubt from the look on the Dark Lord's face that he was indeed impressed by the display. “Magical, too, you say?” For the first time he addressed the mutant.

“Yes, My Lord. If I may?” He nodded his approval and watched the man use his wand to repair the crater, even transfiguring exact replicas of the floor tiles. When he was done it was impossible to tell the site of the damage.

“Your accent?”

“America. I have lived there and here off and on for a number of years.”

Turning to Severus he asked, “Do you propose we use him as a weapon then?”

Severus hesitated, whether real of affected the other man couldn't tell. “I think he would be a good source to bring mutant kind to our side. I also believe, if My Lord agrees, that he might make a fine Death Eater. He was sorted into Slytherin and has a history of fighting against muggle kind.” They waited in silence. To Severus is felt like acid was climbing up his throat while the Dark Lord mulled over his request. Too much enthusiasm and he'd be turned down just to keep him in his place. Too little and he'd be punished for daring to bring such a trivial matter to his Lord.

“I will see his mind before I make such a decision.” He finally declared. He beckoned the other man closer. Without raising his voice he cast  _Legilimens_ . To the observer there was nothing to see, simply two men having a staring contest. But to the young man it was like having every embarrassment, petty anger, school-boy hurt dragged into the light and relived. They had practiced this, however, he and Severus. He would need to give little bits of his soul to the Dark Lord, while his shields, unobtrusive and entirely mutant as they were, hid in the depths of his mind with all of his important secrets. Eventually the Dark Lord broke from the spell. With what might, if one were feeling generous, be called a smile, he said “Welcome to our brotherhood, Remy.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

After the Dark Lord's remark the air was filled with an electric charge.

“What is it that your heart desires?” He asked his new Death Eater in a vaguely questioning tone, as though his answer was only a passing curiosity. As though he didn't know. As though he had not lingered over the memories of mistreatment- not enough to know his entire past or the unusual circumstances, but enough to guess that perhaps his new follower had had a similar upbringing to his own, one filled with its share of unproportionally severe punishments, forcing one to either become the wolf or the sacrifice.

Remy did not even need to pause as the answer fell from his lips. “Vengeance.” It felt like the only truth that was spoken that night.

The Dark Lord gave him a thin-lipped, reptilian smile before he gestured to someone in the back of the room. Remy didn't dare to turn around. Severus had stepped back into the vanguard line of the inner circle. Remy was alone within a circle of Death Eaters who inspected him from behind their silver masks as though he were but an interesting horse for sale. The show was his now. If he made a false step and brought about the displeasure of the Dark Lord, Severus would not step from the line to save him. There would be no helping him. He kept his eyes on the Dark Lord- _his_ Dark Lord, now. He thought that adrenaline was the only thing keeping him standing, but knew that wasn't true. While he had never stood before a Dark Lord before, having his life of a precarious precipice was not something new. It was not a pleasant knowledge to have back in his life after so many years believing that it was firmly in the past.

When Bellatrix dragged the young woman back into the room through the parting Death Eaters, he knew that his first true steps as a spy had begun. His feet could not now be taken from this path. She threw the woman to his left

“A gift.” The Dark Lord gestured. “A bit worse for wear, I'm afraid, but she should suit your needs none the less. Do as you will with her.”

What to do? What to do? This was a test. A test of his resolve, of his commitment to the Dark Lord, of the steel of his stomach. Remy walked around his dispassionately, inspecting his present. His instinct, since he couldn't possibly save the girl, was to give her a quick death. But that wouldn't be possible. Instinct honed by experience dictated his next move. Gracefully he knelt over her knees and placed his left hand with bruising force around her throat. Her scared rabbit pulse flashed against his fingers. He was taller than her by almost a foot. With his heavier weight he easily pinned her weakly thrashing body to the floor. With his wand, using a similar spell to Bellatrix's slicing hex, he carved lazy swirls and patterns into her skin. She whimpered- screamed outright when he cut over areas that had already been burned or cut- but her eyes pleaded with him all the same. She might have been cute before Bellatrix had ripped chunks of hair from her scalp and before her lip had been cut and had swollen. As it was, she had a round face and sweet brown eyes. Within the hour those eyes had shifted from pleading to condemnation to the verge of madness.

He used a wide variety of tricks. Scarring the body, that was one thing. But women, particularly average muggles, prized the face above all else. She wept as he cut deep parallel lines across her cheeks. Her screams echoed around the room when he got down and dirty, he heard the Dark Lord rumble “how positively muggle,” in a delighted, childlike voice when he used his own fingers to pry loose her left eye- kind of like trying to pop open a recalcitrant oyster. At one point he had shifted upwards as she kept flailing against him, using his knees to pin down her forearms. He paid no attention to the sting as her nails left bloody marks in his skin.

After almost an hour he re-obtained vertical. The girl was so maimed as to be unrecognizable. She wasn't yet dead, her fingers twitched and her legs spasmed. He had an irrational desire to fix her skirt as the whole room was getting an eyeful of formerly-white, now red, underwear. The cloth of her garments had soaked up a large amount of blood and she was now sodden, as though she had gone swimming.

“My Lord.” He bowed to the Dark Lord. “If you would do me the honor.” With a flourish he extended his wand in his open palm, his head bowed. For a moment, nothing happened. When the cool, thin finger touched his hand they merely took the wand and returned it to its owner; a symbolic declaration a fealty having been accepted. He left it to Remy to put the finishing touches on his own handiwork. He knelt next to the woman. Her brown eye opened and stared resignedly as he lifted her head, cradling her skull like a lover. He took a moment to look into her brown eye and the bloody, pulpy pit of the other. He always was a sucker for a pretty girl. He committed her face to memory. With a grunt and a resounding crack, his masterpiece was complete.

* * *

 

The trek to the apparition point outside of Malfoy manner was a quiet one. Neither man knew who else may be listening. There was, for certain, a man walking about fifty yards behind them. The other Death Eaters seemed to mingle, but to uphold their own guises as school teachers, they had to return to Hogwarts. As soon as Remy crossed the wards he apparated with a sharp crack. He had a few seconds head start towards the castle when he heard the twin crack of Severus' arrival. The older man did not try to catch up with his quick gait, merely followed at a measured pace. Across the lawn and up the front stairs. Together they climbed the stairs, keeping an eye out for errant students. While Severus' mask was safely back in his pocket, two slimy Slytherin teachers, one of admittedly higher and less slimy standing than the other, wandering the castle at three in the morning in each other's company was bound to start some whispers.

Together they silently hiked up to the Headmaster's office. “Hobnob,” Severus commanded the Gargoyle and it moved aside. A strip of light could be seen from under the Headmaster's door as they climbed yet more stairs. Some days the school made one feel like Sisyphus, always climbing, never reaching a destination. The Headmaster opened the door before they reached it, the worried expression on his face clearing at the sight of them, waving them inside.

“Albus.” Severus said, inclining his head slightly before he took his usual place in the high-backed wooden chair. It was uncomfortable and hard, but it was not in the garish colors the Headmaster preferred. Remy didn't mind though, sprawling in a plush purple chair that clashed with his auburn hair. He had yet to say anything, and his closed-off expression worried his former head of house.

“I assume your meeting was a success as you are both here and presumably have all your body parts.” The Headmaster began, settling behind his desk. His attempt at levity fell flat. He summoned a house elf for a tea service. When the elf disappeared with a pop they sat in silence, the Headmaster inspecting both men; Severus sardonically glanced back while Remy inspected a pulled thread on the arm of his chair, looking much as he did in his former school days- bored, and not at all intimidated to be in the office of such a man as Albus Dumbledore. His behavior, even in silence, could communicate so much, and often that communication was good natured insubordination. At the moment he could read nothing from him.

The elf returned with tea and scones and the chocolate biscuits that the Potions Master preferred. The Headmaster made them both their tea as they preferred; Severus with no sugar and Remy's full of a disgusting amount of sugar and then chilled with a sustained cooling charm. He passed the tea to them.

“Tell me things went according to plan.” The Headmaster said.

“Things went according to the larger plan, yes, but there was an...unforeseen incident.” He glanced at Remy, who sighed and addressed the Headmaster.

“I'm in. Not the Inner Circle, that'll take more work an' time. But no matter what happens from here on out, I'm in, irreversibly tied to the Death Eaters.” Albus had a sinking feeling. Turning to Severus, “Already?” he asked. Deaths would happen, and while he didn't like it, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to have assess to Voldemort, access which, unlike Harry's scar, was in some ways predictable. Grim faced, Severus nodded.

“I did not think this would happen so soon. The victim was a muggle woman- Bellatrix had already begun torturing her when she was passed on to Remy. The Dark Lord” “Voldemort” the Headmaster quietly interjected, “ _the Dark Lord_ used to entice with honey, lure his members into a trap before he put blood on their hands- if they were not already so inclined. Something must have changed suddenly for him to abandon this way.”

“It's 'cause'f what he saw in my head.” Remy admitted, looking at neither man. “I didn't lie when I told him what I wanted, ya know.”

“Which was?”

“Vengeance, revenge. Ain't so hard to keep that at the front of my mind when he's flippin' through it like a book, 'cause it's based offa something real. He saw my time with Magneto- that's what convinced him, I think, that I'm anti-muggle- he saw what Magneto stood for and when I did while working for him. I hid Apocalypse from him. Don't need him getting any ideas. He didn't really go to my early memories, but even I could sense blood when he got to close t'them, he saw a spot or two of when I killed someone as a pup. I ain't exactly been livin' the pacifist life, now have I?”

Neither man knew how to respond.

“You're sure he did not see many of your pre-Hogwarts memories?” Severus demanded.

“Just a few- the more violent ones. That's part'a why I put on a bit of a show. He thinks I have some blood lust. Why lure me in if I'm already depraved, yeah?”

“First blood has been spilled.” The Headmaster commented. “I'm afraid extricating you at this point would be nigh impossible, even if we wanted to.”

“I made the choice. I knew the risk. I'm not turning back now. I'm sure there'll be a lot more people dead by the time this is finished. This is just the beginning.” All three men sat in pensive silence, tea forgotten, and the bleak future of the war they were throwing themselves into becoming abundantly plain.

 

“Are you sure you do not need to talk?” Remy and Severus stood on the stair landing. Remy would take the stairs to his quarters that lay in the direction of Ravenclaw and Severus would slide back down to the dark dungeons. Remy shrugged his shoulders.

“Nothing t' say, really. You were there.”

“That is not what I asked.” Severus snapped.

“We're equals, here. You can't carry both of us. I'm fine.” Remy snapped back.

“Equals?” Severus stepped closer into Remy's personal space. Remy glared the two or so inches down into back eyes, but made no move to back up, instead he lengthened himself to his full height. Even still, he could never aspire to match the Snape Presence. “I've been doing this  _ for years.  _ And need I remind you, that  _ you  _ are here because of  _ me. _ If you die because of your position with the Dark Lord, that will be  _ my fault. _ ”

“Trust you to make this about you.” He weakly joked back. More seriously he added, “I'll be fine. Gotta stand on my own two feet here. Gotta keep myself alive. You gotta make sure you keep you alive, ya hear?” He began walking away. “I'm sure I'll be in your office havin' an existential crisis eventually, but not right now. Gotta work through some stuff on my own, for once.” He tossed back over his shoulder before disappearing around a bend in the hallway. Severus glowered- it was impossible to make Remy talk about something he did not want to, but he was not used to his intimidation tactics not working. With a snap of his robes he stalked to the dungeons, looking very much like the bat the students called him.

 

 

Remy's chambers were cold when he returned to them. He cast  _ lumos _ as he made his way to the fireplace to stir up the banked coals. His chambers were Spartan in their simplicity, barely looking as though anyone lived there at all aside from the papers waiting to be graded on the desk and a few books on the shelves. An envelop lay just outside the fireplace, having been deposited by floo sometime when he was gone. Opening it he read the large, looping handwriting which simply said:

_Tried to call-where were you?_

_Charlie_

Tossing the note on his desk he reversed course. He couldn't talk to Charlie right now. Like he couldn't talk to Severus. Like he couldn't explain to the Headmaster. Instead he made his way to the bathroom. It would be his normal time to rise in a couple of hours. He figured he'd forgo his normal morning run. He wondered if the hot water supply ever ran out and how long it would actually take for him to drown in the bath. He'd give it his best shot.

 

* * *

 

Kitty glared at her computer screen and tried not to notice that Scott was poking his head into her “office” more and more often as the day wore on. She found herself entangled in a mire of information, very little of which was actually useful  _ or  _ interesting.

She finally snapped without turning around. “Damn it, Scott, I'll let you know when I have something to report. Get out of my hair!” She felt the weight of his eyes disappear. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her spine, twisting in her seat, trying to shake lose the feelings of inaction. She had been at this for hours and had nothing to show for it. She was beginning to find what may have been potential cracks, however. Why so many scientists and doctors just for a project compiling names? She was beginning to smell something funky taking place, even if she couldn't find the source yet.

_ Sword and Shield  _ seemed to be connected to a lot of other corporations, most of which she had never heard of: a major law firm in L.A., a few military defense contractors, a scientific lab. She'd need to further research that last one. Yet they were also philanthropic, donating money to children's group homes and centers for domestic violence around the country. They were also somewhat less philanthropically involved in the prison system, shelling out some cash for convict workers. She couldn't quite make heads or tails of them. The more she dug into their financial records the more she found evidence of fraud. Money that was purported to go one place but never seemed to make it to its destination. Dealings in untraceable offshore accounts (and she  _ had  _ tried to trace them). She wasn't an accountant, but Bobby seemed to have a way with numbers, having explained to her at one point that he'd like to go into accounting. Perhaps she'd toss some of the numbers his way and see what he made of them. With that in mind she dragged some files and deposited them onto her thumb drive before leaving in search of Bobby. She scowled when she saw Scott fumble with a magazine he was pretending to read when he really was just sitting in the hall waiting to pop his head inside the office yet again. She ignored him.

Eventually she found Bobby in the kitchen. He was chattering to X-23, a strained look on his face at her deadpan expression as she tried to point out a logical flaw in his argument. Agatha, who was at the mansion briefly to work on some project dealing with Rogue's powers, and would be leaving the next day, was inspecting some art cards on the table, tapping her lip with one gnarled finger, pausing to watch Kitty as she walked by.

Briefly explaining to Bobby what she wanted him to do, she rolled her eye and raised her voice for her spy. “Fraud, Scott.” She heard him walk away now that she had finally given him some type of answer. She passed Bobby the thumb drive. “Sure, I'll take care of it.” He assured her, pocketing it.

“Not going home?” She asked sympathetically. Bobby shrugged, his grin never leaving his face.

“Nah, but there's a bunch of us staying, so it won't be lonely or anything. Wouldn't want to go home anyway, too much fun here.” She didn't bother to call him on his lie. Laura just watched their conversation, making no move to speak. She gave Kitty the creeps sometimes. She was always there, always watching.

“I've got to drive Jean and Rogue to the airport in a little bit”

“They never should have given you a license,” he joked. She stuck out her tongue at him as she left. Laura had moved to observe Agatha and Bobby meandered down the hall.

* * *

 

It was early evening when the alarms sounded. A few of the mansion's residents were gathered in the rec room, trying to watch tv, but it had devolved into a fight over the remote. At the alarm heads snapped up, voices stopped, movements froze. Scott's hand immediately flew to his glasses as he scanned the windows outside of the rec room. A deep red glow from the almost extinguished sun cast the front lawn in with hauntingly blood soaked appearance. With his free hand he herded the younger students behind him, their backs to the fireplace. Anxiety crawled through his stomach, but his hand did not tremble. It was odd, he always thought, that he was in the position of being an adult. It was moments such as these when he was startled that _he_ was no longer the one being herded away from potential danger, and that he was now in the very real position of protecting the younger students. He strained his ears for any sounds.

Wolverine sniffed the air, once, twice, his brow furrowed, his claws extending silently as he stalked to the doorway. There was a commotion outside in the front parlor.  _Oh Shit_ , thought Scott. All hope of a false alarm or a drill sunk faster than his stomach. Agatha Harkness sidled next to him, but he did not pay her much mind. She was only one of the visitors the mansion sometimes hosted, along with its Hodge-podge of semi-permanent dwellers. Funny how fighting an apocalypse could bring people together.

He barely stopped himself from flinching- and thus letting loose an optic blast- as Storm and Nightcrawler fled into the room, together sliding the heavy doors shut and locking them- presumably to buy them some time. Storm's white hair was dark with blood by her left temple. She absentmindedly tried to wipe the blood away from her eye, giving it the look of war paint.

Storm answered his unasked questions, speaking so quickly as to barely be comprehensible. “Military, maybe. Weapons are too good for FOH. They've taken the Professor. They're subduing Hank. They have some kind of power jammer, like an inhibitor collar. No idea how far it reaches.” Scott tried not to hear the tone in her voice.  _No hope._ He cast an eye back to his charges. A bag and tag operation. Not shoot on sight. Maybe they'd have a chance of escape when they figured out what was going on. 

“Agatha?” Storm shot her a questioning look.

“On the dresser in the wooden puzzle box.” her gravely voice answered.

“Nightcrawler.” Storm ordered. Nightcrawler looked to Cyclops. Cyclops looked to Storm. The noises outside were getting louder, closer. Wolverine's animalistic yell-turned-scream could be heard from the far end of the hall. Then silence. His fingers shook. 

“What are you thinking?” Could Nightcrawler get the children out? Could some of them be saved? Scott may be the appointed leader, but Storm had more experience, more seniority.

“A way to get out.” She simply said. She stood calmly, regally, as though with each passing second they weren't being marched closer to their doom.

“Do it.” He ordered, turning back to the door. Nightcrawler's  _BAMF_ echoed through the silence. In less than three second he returned, with an equally loud sound, a wooden box clutched in his clawed hands. Agatha took the box and turned towards the children. God, they were all so young. The brave front they were putting on couldn't hide their fear- except X-23. She was never afraid, was she?

“Everyone grab a handful.” She ordered in a no-nonsense tone. God, was this her plan? His stomach couldn't sink anymore. It was now a block of lead. The students hesitantly stood there with their hands full of a dark powder. Agatha herded them closer to the fireplace.

“Tell them what has happened. You will be safe.” She ordered. There were a few hesitant nods. The students were obviously confused “The Informant will be there. He'll watch out for you. Trust.” With a final nod she shoved Rahne into the fireplace. The smaller girl yelped and attempted to get back out. “No.” Agatha ordered and Rahne paused. “Everyone must do this so pay attention. Throw the powder down and name your destination. Hogwarts!” Looking confused and not at all certain Rahne threw the powder down and shouted “Hogwarts” in a choked voice. With a flare of green flames she was gone.

The younger students looked aghast and even Cyclops had to admit that he was flummoxed. But Agatha was a witch, after all, or at least her mutant powers presented that way. But what in the hell was a Hogwarts? Agatha herded them, one by one- she said going in multiples could be dangerous- as they quickly disappeared in green flames. Roberto. Amara. Sam. The doors to the rec room began to shake. Shattering wood could be heard. They were breached. The slightly older students were next. Iceman. Tabitha. Cyclops gave X-23 a hard shove into the fireplace as she seemed to believe she'd be staying for this battle and she disappeared as well. The doors came flying over in a sea of splinters. Jubilee resolutely stood by Storm, too far away from the fireplace to make it. Cyclops briefly thought about tumbling them all into the flames, but his feet wouldn't move. There was a visceral shock as he felt his optic blast disintegrate, like it had never been there at all. He took his hand from his glasses. There was only a physical fight left. 

With a flurry the remaining X-Men attacked. They took out Storm first. Without her powers she lacked real fighting strength, though she landed a few good blows before being taken under. One fighter merely grabbed Agatha- she was too old to really be any trouble. One of the men fired at Nightcrawler, hitting him. His strength was in hit and run style attacks and he had been too close to the door to make it very far. Jubilee was next. All effort that had been put into her during training to turn her into a fighter seemed to flee, though her new-found vampire strength was an asset. She wailed in haphazard kicks and punches, almost windmilling at times, before she too was subdued. Cyclops could feel the helplessness of the situation weighing down his limbs, delaying his reaction time. Once the attention was removed from Storm and Jubilee he stood no chance. He collapsed under the onslaught of a half-dozen heavily armed men. The last thing he saw was the glint of green of one masked man's visor, a sharp stab into his thigh, and the quick pull of drugged sleep.

* * *

 

It was very hard to catch Albus unawares. He was a senile old man only when it suited his purpose. He had informants- he didn't like to say spies- in virtually every nook and cranny in the wizarding world and was very up-to-date on current events. He could calculate a ministry or parental visit from a mile away. Consequently, one could have bowled him over with a feather when he was roused from his bed by the sound of the school's floo activating. He stood in the doorway of his quarters, which connected to his office, mouth agape, as children came, one right after another, through the floo. The first girl stumbled and fell. The next tripped over the first. The third looked to be on the verge of vomiting. They were hysterical, on the verge of tears and clambering over one another in their speech. Still more came. They all stood watching the floo as the last girl came; the only one who even noticed he was there as she turned to inspect him.

“Where's Scott?””-Storm””-Kurt!” Eventually, after long moments of staring at the dormant fireplace, their hopes seemed to wither. They began to inspect the room, gawking at Fawkes on his perch, when Albus tactfully cleared his throat. The sight of a strange man with a long white beard in a purple terry bath robe standing on the stones in his knobbly bare feet was not the one they expected. Awkwardly he said:

“Welcome to Hogwarts.”

 


End file.
